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If Boredom Had A Soul It'd be Yours

You tiny bubble
Limited in thought
Unfamiliar ideals  
Are sorcery  
 
You piano ballad  
Uncomplicated  
Bland and happy
What are you made of?
You only flash color
When it's a white lie
 
You washing machine
Collecting dust
I can find no thrill
I run and you sit still.
Written by anonymouslyhere (Pariah Shadow)
Published
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